


Instructional Manual

by imaginary_golux



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Fluff, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Smut, Too many virgins in a bed, oh god these precious fluffballs are going to ruin me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 22:09:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5643661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_golux/pseuds/imaginary_golux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone assumes Poe is great in bed, because really, have you seen Poe Dameron? Except that he's been holding out for true love. And Stormtroopers, of course, are not encouraged to have interpersonal relationships.</p><p>There are instructional manuals for everything *else*, why not for this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Instructional Manual

The general assumption among the Resistance fighters (though not the _General’s_ assumption, as she is rather too busy to be speculating about the relationships between her fighters) is that Poe Dameron is probably pretty good in bed. Admittedly, none of the people on Base have ever had the pleasure of his intimate company – or at least any who have aren’t talking – but no one who smiles like that and flirts so constantly and confidently can possibly be anything less than supremely talented. Probably left a string of satisfied lovers behind when he came to fight for the Resistance, and really it’s a testament to his devotion to the cause that he hasn’t been breaking hearts all across the Base.

The general assumption is, as it happens, entirely inaccurate. Poe is a romantic at heart, and he has been waiting, somewhat abashedly, for true love. He’s kissed a few people, of various genders and species, and he’s certainly _looked_ at a fair number of people with lust in his heart, because have you seen some of the beautiful people who fight for the Resistance? – but he’s never gone farther than kissing and a little above-the-waist groping.

He’s still waiting, as it happens; but now he’s rather pining as well, which is not a state of affairs he is used to, and finds rather uncomfortable. But he’s not going to pressure his beloved into anything at all, because Force knows his beloved has been pressured into far too many things already.

*

Finn has even less experience than Poe does. Stormtroopers are not encouraged to form interpersonal relationships of any sort, much less sexual – people are known to do stupid things for their lovers, things like break orders or even try to desert – and so the most Finn knows about what two (or more) people can get up to together is that Resistance fighters _do_ go off into corners and private rooms in pairings or small groups, that kissing looks like something most people enjoy quite a lot, and that he might like to find out more.

Rey, when Finn asks, gives him a long dubious look and inquires, “What about my growing up on a desert planet with no amicable company makes you think I know any more than you do?” She shrugs. “You should ask Poe. People say…things…about him. I think _he’d_ know what it’s all like.”

“Good things?” Finn asks anxiously. He does not want anyone to be saying anything bad about Poe Dameron, ever, in any way.

“Of course good things,” Rey assures him. “He’s Poe, after all.”

“Right, right,” Finn says, relaxing. “Of course.” He does not see the way she grins once he turns away, too caught up in the sudden thought that perhaps, somehow, someday, he might actually get to _kiss Poe_.

So the next time he and Poe are both on base and not terribly busy, he follows Poe back to his rooms after dinner – Poe is always willing to have Finn tag along, which is one of the best things about him, along with everything else about him, as far as Finn is concerned – and flops down next to Poe on the bunk, and tries to come up with a good way to raise the subject.

After a few minutes of silence Poe turns from whatever he was doing with BB-8 – he’s always tinkering with the little droid, more for his own pleasure than anything else, though it seems to make BB-8 happy too – and raises an eyebrow at Finn. “Something on your mind, buddy?”

“So you’re perfect,” Finn blurts, and then hides his face in his hands. There’s a pause.

“…Run that by me again?” Poe asks eventually.

Finn mumbles into his hands, “You’re good at everything and you _smile_ and I want to kiss you.” It’s not terribly coherent. Rey would do this better. But then Rey would get to kiss Poe, and Finn would have to be jealous, and he doesn’t want to be jealous of his very best friend.

There’s another long pause. Then Poe’s hands pull Finn’s away from his face, and Finn looks up to see Poe smiling, an enormous beautiful smile even better than his normal happy-to-see-people smile or his warm teaching-someone-something smile or his gorgeous bragging-about-friends smile. It’s bigger and warmer and happier than Finn has ever imagined.

“Really?” he asks quietly. Finn nods, gulps, nods again.

Poe leans forward and kisses him.

Finn decides that he _really_ likes kissing. It is warm and wonderful and _Poe_ and he never wants to stop, never wants to do anything else again. Then Poe shifts a little closer and puts an arm around Finn, and that is even better, warmer and more perfect – can things be more perfect? But this is, so it must be possible – and Finn makes a little plaintive sound into the kiss and tries to get closer still.

They eventually break apart, both breathing hard, and Poe gives Finn that enormous, wonderful smile again. Then it dims. Finn thinks his heart must be breaking – that smile should never go away, not ever, Poe should _always_ be that happy, how can he make it come back?

“I thought you and Rey –“ Poe says.

Finn blinks. “She’s my best friend,” he replies.

“But you don’t…want to kiss her?” Poe presses.

“I mean, I guess I could,” Finn says, thinking about it. “She’s pretty wonderful. But I think I like kissing you more than I’d like kissing her.”

Poe kisses him again, so Finn guesses that must have been a good answer.

It is several long minutes and a great many wonderful kisses later that Finn gets his head together enough to remember to ask, “So, um, you…know what to do? Because I’ve never…er. I mean. You’re the first person I’ve kissed. Because you’re the first person I’ve wanted to kiss, because you’re perfect, and I don’t know what I’m doing.” He stops, mortified, and tries to hide his face again. Poe catches his hands and kisses the knuckles, and Finn decides that Poe is _even more perfect_ than previously assumed. He is going to have to tell Rey about this.

Also he is going to have to kiss Poe, just for being perfect; so he does, and forgets all about his question for a while.

*

He tells Rey all about later that night, after he has staggered red-lipped and dazed from Poe’s rooms and found his way half on instinct back to the room he shares with Rey, after she has fallen over laughing at the look of utter dazzlement he is wearing and demanded to know what, exactly, Poe did to put that expression on his face.

“That sounds…nice,” she says when he’s done stammering his way through describing Poe’s lips and hands and eyes and _lips_.

“It was really, _really_ nice,” Finn says dreamily.

“I am very glad you are happy,” she says firmly.

Finn thinks about something Poe said. “Do you want to try it?” he asks.

Rey shakes her head. “I think I’ve got enough to learn just now,” she says mildly. “And if I stay up too much later, Master Luke is _really_ going to kick my ass tomorrow.”

“I’ll go talk one of the med droids into giving me some painkillers for you,” Finn promises. Rey throws a pillow at him and curls up on her bed, giggling, and Finn flops down on his own mattress and drifts off to sleep with a grin on his face that he cannot quite suppress.

*

He follows Poe back to his rooms again the next night, with Rey’s grin following them, and Poe lets him, but when they’re in Poe’s rooms and Finn leans in for another of those addictive kisses, Poe brushes their lips lightly together and then leans back and says, “Are you – is this just casual, for you?”

Finn blinks. “Casual?”

“I mean, do you just want…um…how serious are you about this?”

“I don’t understand,” Finn tells him, because he knows that Poe will explain. Poe always explains, and never laughs at Finn for not understanding something, except sometimes he chuckles a little, gently, like it’s a joke they’re sharing; in this, as in everything, he is perfect.

Poe gives him a small grin, a shadow of his normal enormous smile. “Do you just want to learn to kiss, or would you like this to be an actual…an actual relationship?”

Finn thinks about it. “I…when you say _relationship_ …”

“Like General Leia and Han Solo,” Poe says. “Only with less…tragedy.”

“Oh!” says Finn, and grins. “Yes!”

“Yes?”

“Yes, of course!” Finn says, nodding enthusiastically. Of course he wants to spend the rest of his life following Poe around and making him smile as much as possible. And hugging him. And kissing him. And not running off with a Wookiee for years, but presumably that’s what Poe means about less tragedy.

Poe grins, that wonderful wide warm smile which Finn only learned about last night, and leans in, and oh, _there_ are the kisses Finn has been waiting for. Finn lets Poe pin him gently against the door and closes his eyes so he can concentrate on the sheer pleasure of being kissed, and wraps his arms around Poe’s waist to keep him there, and just basks in happiness for a while.

“So,” says Poe, rather a long time later, and Finn opens his eyes to find that Poe is somehow _even handsomer_ with his lovely hair disheveled by Finn’s hands and his lips pink from kissing and a blush high in his cheeks. How is that even possible? It really isn’t fair. “There’s probably something I should tell you before we go any farther.”

“Okay,” Finn says, because anything Poe wants to tell him will be fine.

“I haven’t actually done anything more than kissing, and I’m not entirely sure where to go from here,” Poe tells him, blush getting worse. “I mean, I know the basic _mechanics_ , but not…er…the details.”

Finn thinks about this. “Okay,” he says after a while. “Are there instructional manuals?”

Poe goes brilliantly pink and kisses him again. Finn isn’t quite sure what to make of the conflicting responses: embarrassing Poe is _wrong_ , Poe should never be embarrassed about anything because he is _perfect_ , but making Poe kiss him is _good_ , because Poe is _perfect_.

“I will find an instructional manual,” Poe promises. “For now, kissing?”

“Please,” Finn says, and gets that smile again as a reward. Wow. He should say ‘please’ more often.

*

“Instructional manuals?” Rey asks when Finn tells her about his evening. “I mean – that’s a thing? Huh. I didn’t think…I mean, I guess it makes sense…” she trails off, looking thoughtful. “It’s not like people are put together as sensibly as starships,” she adds. “There certainly _ought_ to be instructional manuals. It’s not _nearly_ as intuitive.”

“Most people don’t think starships are intuitive,” Finn points out, because he has heard quite a few people in the last few weeks marveling at Rey’s ability to fix anything and then fly it. Apparently that skill is not common. Certainly _Finn_ does not find starships intuitive.

“Well, my point stands,” Rey huffs. “Maybe I’ll go check the holomanuals tomorrow, see what I can find. Or I could ask Master Luke.”

Finn shrugs. “Sounds sensible,” he agrees. “I’ll tell you if Poe finds a good one.”

“Thanks,” Rey says.

(Finn is not there for the conversation Rey has with Luke the next day, and thankfully neither is anyone else, so Luke’s reputation for being unflappable remains unstained. Rey, however, remembers the shade of red which suffuses Luke’s face for the rest of her life, and giggles about it at inopportune moments.)

*

“I found one!” Poe tells Finn cheerfully the next evening.

Finn grins and kisses him. He thinks he’s honestly getting rather good at kissing: he can make Poe make little noises in the back of his throat, now, and if he bites down very gently on Poe’s bottom lip, Poe goes all limp and pliable against him and his cheeks go very pink and Finn wants nothing more than to make Poe look like that _all the time_.

Except for how he wants Poe to smile that perfect smile all the time. Or laugh that absolutely wonderful laugh. Or give Finn the sidelong look which means he is about to make a really dreadful joke.

Okay, he just wants to have Poe be _happy_ all the time. Because Poe is perfect and should be happy. And if he can be happy because of _Finn_ , and _at_ Finn…well, that would be even better.

Poe pulls away after a while, laughing. “Do you just want to kiss all night, then?” he asks. “Because I am okay with that, buddy, but I have faced down the archivists for this instructional manual, and we should at least _look_ at it before I have to bring it back.”

Finn grins and sits down next to Poe on his bed. “Alright then,” he says, “let’s see.”

Finn is expecting something like the holomanuals he watched back in the First Order, which taught things like how to perform sanitation duties or dismantle and clean your blaster: dispassionate, clinical things, with stern-faced instructors and annotated diagrams. The holomanual which starts playing when Poe pushes the button is…nothing like that at all. Finn stares in astonished awe.

“Do we look like that when we kiss?” he asks Poe, who laughs and drops a brief kiss on Finn’s nose.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but _I’m_ not blond,” Poe teases.

Finn loses a few moments in contemplating Poe’s perfect hair. It’s really gorgeous, and even when it’s all tousled from his helmet it looks like it’s _supposed_ to be that way, and it’s so soft when Finn runs his hands through it…

“Buddy, it’s not that I don’t enjoy being looked at like that, but I don’t think my hair’s going to teach you very much,” Poe laughs.

Finn grins sheepishly and turns his attention back to the holomanual, but he also leans over to rest his shoulder against Poe’s. Poe is warm and comfortable, and he laces their fingers together between them. Finn thinks he could happily spend the rest of his life just like this. Only more kissing would be nice. Okay, just like this but with _kissing_.

The actors in the manual take their clothes off. Finn revises his previous thought: just like this, only with kissing, and _naked_.

Force, what must Poe look like naked? Perfect, obviously, because Poe is perfect, but what _kind_ of perfect? Does he have hair on his chest like the shorter actor, or just bare perfect skin over muscles like the taller one? What color is the skin under his flight suit?

“I think we should pause the manual and take our clothes off,” Finn says hoarsely. Poe glances over at him and grins.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Finn says. “Please? I want to see you naked.”

Poe’s eyes go big and dark, and his hand stabs out to pause the manual. “ _Yeah_ ,” he replies, and stands, shucking out of his clothing with brisk, graceful motions. Finn is frozen on the bed, staring. Force, but Poe is beautiful. Strong arms, and smooth skin, and elegant traceries of dark hair making patterns Finn wants to memorize…Finn gulps. He wants to touch Poe _all over_ , learn how his hair tickles and how the texture of his skin changes where the clothing protects it and…Finn’s gaze trails farther down, and oh, yes, he would very much like to touch Poe’s cock, which is just as lovely as the rest of him. Maybe that will be in the instruction manual? Oh, _please_ let that be in the manual.

“Admittedly the jacket suits you,” Poe says, grinning, “but I think just now I would like it better on the chair.” Finn realizes that he has been sitting quite still and clutching the edge of the mattress with both hands instead of doing anything useful. He trips over his own feet as he gets up hurriedly, and Poe catches him before he can fall. Finn’s face goes hot, but he steals a kiss before he strips, motions nowhere near as graceful as Poe’s, and stacks his clothes on the chair before he dares to look up and see if Poe approves of him.

If the heat in Poe’s eyes is any indication, Poe approves quite a lot. “You look…good,” Poe says quietly, and Finn stands up a little straighter. He’s been keeping up with the training regimen the Stormtroopers were required to obey, now that he’s been released from medical, and he knows he’s as strong as any other human on base and quite possibly stronger than most, but this is the first time he’s really taken _pride_ in the definition of his muscles, the breadth of his shoulders. Now, with Poe’s gaze hot and hungry upon him, all that hard work seems worth it at last.

Poe reaches out to pull Finn into a kiss, and Finn goes willingly and eagerly, then gasps as their bodies press together. Kissing naked is _nothing_ like kissing with clothes on. There’s all this _skin_! And it’s so _warm_ and _lovely_ and… _oh_. And Poe is still perfect. Always perfect. Yes good please more.

Finn realizes that he’s saying that aloud only when Poe groans in his ear and says, “Force, Finn, do you even know how you _sound_?”

“No?” says Finn warily.

Poe kisses him again. Well, that must be good. Finn tries to press a little closer just as Poe does the same, and loses his balance; a flurry of yelps and flailing later, Finn lands on his back on the bed, and Poe lands rather heavily on top of him. It knocks the breath out of Finn, but when he recovers, it’s to find that lying there with Poe on top of him is _really, really nice_.

Poe props himself up on one arm and grins down at Finn. “That worked,” he says cheerfully. Finn, gasping at how perfect Poe feels against him, manages to grin.

“Yeah,” he says faintly. “Oh, _Force_. Kiss me? Please?”

Poe does. It’s perfect.

*

Finn doesn’t tell Rey about his evening, because by the time he gets back to their room, she’s fast asleep: it’s well past midnight. Finn should probably feel guilty about spending so many hours just lying on a bed, kissing Poe, but it was so _nice_. He wants to do it again immediately. And that was just the first few minutes of the instructional manual! Imagine what could be next! This is certainly a lot more exciting than learning how to disassemble a blaster.

…Well, okay, there was always the chance that the blaster might explode. But that was exciting in a _bad_ way, and this is definitely, positively, absolutely _not bad_.

He lies awake longer than he should, thinking of the line of Poe’s back and the strength of his arms and the way it feels when Poe lies on top of him, warm and heavy and perfect, and when he falls asleep his dreams, as they have been for weeks now, are full of Poe.

*

Poe has a mission the next day, and Finn trails Rey back to their room that evening rather disconsolately. Rey looks him over, shakes her head, and says, “You should go see if you can watch that instructional manual. Then when he gets back, you’ll know what you’re doing. It’ll be a surprise.”

“Do you think he would like that?” Finn asks plaintively.

“I think he’d like anything you did for him,” Rey says, grinning. “He’s…what’s the phrase Jessika used? ‘Kind of gone on you,’ I think it was. He stares at you when you’re not looking.”

“He _does_?” Finn is delighted and astonished. Someone as perfect and wonderful as Poe stares at _him_?

“Well, you stare right back, so I suppose it all comes out even,” Rey points out.

“Of course I stare,” Finn says. “He’s _perfect_.”

“So you’ve said. Hey, don’t look at me like that, he’s pretty perfect, I have to agree.” Rey laughs. “I don’t think I want to be naked with him quite as much as you do, but he’s a really good pilot. Maybe I’ll get to fly with him sometime.”

“I’ll tell him you said so,” Finn promises. “He thinks you’re really good, too.”

Rey shakes her head, grinning. “Because of course jealousy is not something which occurs to Poe Dameron.”

“Of course not,” Finn agrees. Why would it? Poe is perfect and wonderful and nice to everyone and has lovely eyes and such nice hair…Rey kicks Finn’s ankle gently.

“Go find that instructional manual and let me get back to my meditation,” she says.

“Yes, Rey,” Finn says, and goes.

*

So Finn goes to Poe’s room and watches the whole instructional manual himself. It is…definitely instructional. Yes. He has learned a great many things. None of them were anything _like_ as…dry, yes, dry is a good word…as how to disassemble a blaster.

The actors were handsome enough, he guesses, but honestly he kept mentally substituting Poe in for one or the other of them, and then having to pause the manual and breathe hard for a while, because _Force_ but Poe would be beautiful doing…any of that. All of that. Anything at all, really, but _especially_ any of that.

When Poe gets back, Finn is going to surprise him. Hopefully, Poe will like his surprise.

In the meantime, Finn is going to go ask Rey about meditation, because he thinks he might need it to get through the waiting without going mad.

*

Poe is unharmed when he gets back, which is the first thing Finn checks – he knows Poe is the best pilot out there, but accidents _will_ happen, and he _did_ meet Poe the first time after Poe had been _captured_ , so yes, he checks his – his _Poe_ – over carefully before he pulls Poe into a hug.

“Keep busy while I was gone?” Poe asks, pulling away and looking Finn up and down, then grinning and yanking him back into the hug.

“Yes,” Finn admits. “I learned to meditate.”

“That sounds…fun?” Poe asks, falling in beside him as they head for the mess hall.

“It was…kind of necessary,” Finn admits. “I also watched our instructional manual about ten times.”

Poe’s ears go pink. “Did you,” he says, voice a little wavery. “And did you learn a lot?”

“I did,” Finn says, feeling his own cheeks heat. “I could…show you what I learned tonight, after dinner. If you like.”

“Yes,” Poe says instantly, and Finn feels warm all over. Oh Force, this is actually happening. He’s actually going to get to touch Poe just like he’s been imagining for the past week, all the things that he’s learned and dreamed of doing he’s going to get to do.

He might actually explode if dinner takes too long, he realizes, from excitement or nerves or both together. Hold it together, Finn, he tells himself. Just a little longer. Hang on. Just hang on.

*

Thankfully, Poe eats quickly. Finn does, too, but tonight he is too busy concentrating on _not thinking_ about what they can do after dinner to actually taste what he’s eating, and discovers halfway through his bowl of stew that it’s bhillen, which he has learned he hates. Oops. Oh well. It’s not actually any worse than the protein slush that they got in the First Order, so he finishes his bowl with the efficiency he learned back then and leans back in his seat to enjoy the five-blossom bread, which he actually _does_ like, and listen to Poe talk about the non-classified parts of his mission. Of course Poe was brilliant and courageous and did everything perfectly, so Finn doesn’t pay too much attention to the details, just lets the words wash over him comfortingly. He has missed listening to Poe talk.

And after dinner Poe stretches and grins across the table at the other pilots and Rey and says, “I’m beat; g’night, all.”

Jessika and Rey look at each other, and look at Finn, and look at Poe, and burst into delighted giggles. Poe goes pink around the ears again, but he reaches down to pull Finn to his feet and tugs him out of the mess hall, back straight and head high. Finn follows him, grinning.

Once they get to Poe’s room, Poe shoos BB-8 out and locks the door behind him, then turn to smile at Finn, that wide wonderful smile that only Finn gets from him. Finn thinks it may be his favorite smile in the whole universe. “So,” Poe says, “apparently you’re an expert now. Going to show me what you learned, buddy?”

Finn grins. “If you like,” he says. And he thinks he’s been getting better at teasing – he made Rey blush the other day – so he adds, “Though if you’re tired I could just let you get to sleep…”

Poe looks indignant, and then delighted, and when he laughs his whole face lights up, and then he kisses Finn enthusiastically. So _that_ worked.

And, well, there’s the wall behind Finn, and that was _definitely_ something that looked interesting when the actors in the instructional manual did it, so Finn spins them around so that Poe’s back is up against the wall. Poe laughs, seemingly delighted by this proof of Finn’s strength, and Finn bites at Poe’s lip in that one particular way and glories in the moan it earns him, the way Poe slumps against the wall and closes his eyes in pleasure.

“Stay,” Finn whispers, and drops to his knees. Poe opens his eyes and blinks down at him, curiously, and Finn busies himself getting Poe’s pants off – why, why are they both still wearing clothing – and stops for a moment, mesmerized by the first close look at Poe’s beautiful cock.

“Finn?” Poe asks after a moment, and Finn shakes himself and leans forward and _licks_.

Heat and salt, and the _noise_ Poe makes. Finn does it again. Yep, he could hear that noise every minute of the day for the rest of his life and never get tired of it. Poe’s hands land on his head, not pushing, just holding on, and Finn leans forward and opens his mouth and lets Poe’s beautiful cock just slide in. Poe moans, loud and long and almost pained, and lets go of Finn’s head to clutch at his shoulders, and Finn catches hold of Poe’s hips and holds the other man up as his knees waver.

“Quick study,” Poe says hoarsely.

Finn pulls back and grins up at his…yes, lover is definitely the right word now. How is it possible that Poe is _even more attractive_ with his hair a mess and his eyes dark and his lips bitten pink? How is that _fair_? But then again, Finn was the one who bit his lips, who messed his hair, who made his eyes go dark with desire, so actually it’s _completely_ fair, and he wants to do it again as often as possible. “Beginner’s luck,” he offers, and Poe laughs. “You taste good,” he adds, and the laugh cuts off into a choked moan, and Poe’s fingers tighten on his shoulders.

“You can’t just _say_ things like that,” Poe says plaintively, and Finn leans in again, wanting more of that addictive hot-salt taste, more of the noises Poe makes. He gets both. Force, this is even better than it looked on the instructional manual – the actor being pushed against the wall wasn’t _nearly_ as attractive as Poe is, and the noises he made were not half as addictively arousing.

“Fuck, fuck, stop a minute,” Poe pants some uncounted amount of time later. Finn sits back on his heels reluctantly, though he must admit his jaw has begun to ache and pausing is not a terrible idea. Still, he thought he was doing well, and he says as much.

Poe grins. “If you were doing any better, I’d be a little puddle on the floor,” he says hoarsely. “Can we move this to the bed before my knees give out?”

“Sure,” Finn agrees, and stands, swaying a little. Poe is stripping out of his clothes, which is a _very good idea_ , so Finn does the same, and then they are standing a little awkwardly next to the bed, looking at each other with wide eyes.

Then Poe grins at him and sprawls out on the bed on his back, making a welcoming gesture with one hand. “Come on, then, expert, show me what else you’ve learned,” he invites, and Finn crawls onto the bed, braces himself on hands and knees above his lover, and kisses Poe as fiercely and sweetly as he can manage.

Poe actually whimpers when Finn pulls away, which is a heady sound if Finn’s ever heard one. “So I’ve been practicing something,” Finn says, and Poe manages to raise an eyebrow and attempt to look distantly curious instead of desperately aroused. It isn’t terribly convincing. “You have to promise not to laugh,” Finn adds.

“Buddy, laughing is the _last_ thing on my mind right now,” Poe says fervently.

Finn sits back on his heels and reaches over to the table beside the bed. He’s been practicing this _here_ , because he really, really doesn’t want to explain this to Rey – she would laugh, he knows she would – and so the little pot of salve he’s been using, talked out of the med droids with a story about muscle cramps, is half empty. There’s still plenty, though, and he slicks his fingers and shuffles around until he’s straddling Poe’s hips – Poe’s hands come up to brace him, warm and sure, and Finn makes a little noise that Poe echoes, which is _amazing_ – and reaches down and behind himself.

Poe props himself up on his elbows and _stares_. “Force help me,” he whispers, and Finn thanks his hours of practice that he can do this without too much thought, because most of his higher brain functions are thoroughly derailed by the look of awed lust on Poe’s perfect face. “Can I…can I help?” Poe asks, and Finn nods, hands Poe the salve, watches wide-eyed and torn between delight and terror as Poe coats his own fingers, reaches down between them with one slick hand.

Poe’s finger feels _very different_ from Finn’s own. Finn closes his eyes so he can concentrate on the feeling, on having _part of Poe inside of him_ , Force help him, he may never recover from this. Poe is gentle and careful and sure, and Finn cannot help the moan that comes out of his mouth, seems to come from somewhere deep in his chest, beneath his heart. When he opens his eyes, Poe is staring down between them in shocked lust; his finger twitches, and Finn moans again.

“Right,” Finn says, but it comes out as barely a whisper, his throat dry. He closes his mouth and swallows and tries again. “Right. So. _Oh_ ,” because Poe’s finger has found something inside of Finn which Finn, in his week of practice, had not found, and Finn loses his balance and just manages to catch himself on one arm before he cracks their heads together. Poe cranes up and kisses him, and Finn takes a deep breath and says, “Do you want to fuck me?”

It’s what the actor in the instructional manual had said, and it sounded strange to Finn’s ears then, all alone in Poe’s room gaping at the little holoscreen, but now, here in the warm air between the two of them, the words make Poe moan and his hips rise in an involuntary thrust, and it’s one of the most appealing things Finn has ever seen.

“ _Yes_ ,” Poe says desperately. Finn whimpers. There is a confusing moment full of too many slick hands between their tangled legs, and then Finn lifts himself up and lowers himself down and _oh sweet Force_. Yes.

Poe clutches at Finn’s thighs and pants curses in half a dozen languages. Finn would laugh, would demand translations, but he is a little busy, a little preoccupied with hot-full-good- _fuck yes_. “If I,” he manages to say, and cannot think of the verb, moves instead, rocking up and down and making Poe swear again, “if I do that, Poe, can you – do you – _fuck_!”

Poe grins and puts his feet flat on the bed and pushes his hips up again, pulling Finn down as he does so. “Yep,” he says, and his smile is a little like his usual cocky grin, so Finn leans down and kisses it. There, moaning Poe flat on his back, clinging to Finn like Finn’s the only real thing in the universe. That’s _much_ better. And wow, Poe in any given moment is stunningly beautiful, but like _this_ , laid out for Finn and desperate and _wanting_ …Finn thinks this is possibly the most beautiful that Poe has ever been, and isn’t that saying something?

And then Finn is distracted by another movement of Poe’s hips, and there goes any abstract thought he might have been having, blown away in a wave of lust. This, at least, appears to be instinctual; neither of them needs instructions on how to move together, how to move _with_ each other, and Poe is moaning and Finn is whimpering and there, _there_ , yes, _there_ , oh fuck yes please; Finn realizes he’s saying that out loud when Poe hauls him down by main strength and kisses him silent, lean perfect body straining beneath Finn’s, and then pulls away to cry out, low and sweet, and Finn falls over that waiting precipice into light and dazzling pleasure.

“Well,” says Poe, some time later. “You _did_ learn a lot, buddy.”

Finn raises his head from Poe’s surprisingly comfortable shoulder and kisses his lover. “Think there are any other instructional manuals in the archives?” he asks. Poe chuckles.

“I’ll find out,” he promises. “Quick learner like you, I think we’ll have them all mastered in no time.”

“Practice makes perfect,” Finn mutters, and tucks his face into the curve of Poe’s neck, and revels in Poe’s delighted laugh.


End file.
